Today we’d like to introduce you to Fabian Peña.
Hi Fabian, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
I was born in Havana, Cuba, in 1976 and raised in the Cerro neighborhood by a humble, loving family. My early fascination with drawing, encouraged by my parents, led me to begin formal art studies at the age of eleven. It was 1988; shortly after, the Soviet Union and the socialist bloc in Eastern Europe would fall. This moment marked the beginning of what became known as the “Special Period in Time of Peace,” a time defined by severe shortages and widespread hunger. At school, we were deeply limited by a lack of basic materials, including those needed for art classes. This experience had a profound impact on my life. I later studied at the National Academy of Fine Arts San Alejandro and went on to graduate from the Instituto Superior de Arte in 2003.
During that phase, together with thirteen classmates and guided by artist and professor Lázaro Saavedra, I co-founded the collective Enema. Through this platform, we explored performance, video, and independent publishing, producing a self-edited magazine that became an experimental space for critical dialogue. In parallel, I collaborated with fellow artist Adrián Soca under the name Elsoca & Fabian. Our graduation project, El Lenguaje Perfecto, brought together participatory installations and a series of works titled Biodrawings. These playful and symbolic pieces examined and questioned the reality we were living in, often using organic materials such as dead houseflies. While many carried an almost scatological tone, they were crafted with careful visual rigor.
In May 2004, at the age of twenty-seven, I traveled outside Cuba for the first time to Mérida, Yucatán, to take part in Landings I, a Central American and Caribbean art show curated by Joan Durán at Conkal Arte Contemporáneo. At that moment, diplomatic relations between Cuba and Mexico had broken down, which eventually led me to cross the border into Matamoros–Brownsville, Texas. I spent my first two years in Houston before moving to Miami to present a performance for the Cuban Research Institute Fellowship program, organized by Elizabeth Cerejido.
Miami soon became home. I found a supportive artistic community, established a lasting relationship with Bernice Steinbaum, my first gallerist in the United States, and continued to develop my practice. Today, I balance my artistic career with my role as Manager of Collections and Exhibitions at the Coral Gables Museum, where I have worked since 2018.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
My journey has been marked by numerous challenges. Moving alone to a new country meant adapting to a different culture, learning a new language, and taking on various jobs to sustain myself, all while continuing to pursue my art career. Leaving my family and friends behind and navigating the uncertainty of an artistic path have been demanding, particularly while supporting loved ones in Cuba during a period of profound economic and social crisis.
I have also faced misunderstandings and criticism, which have taught me to remain steadfast in my commitments and convictions. These experiences have strengthened my resilience and deepened my connection to my art, reminding me of the essential role that support, solidarity, and shared perseverance play in both personal and creative growth.
Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
As an artist, I seek to understand the world around me through attentive observation and inquiry. My practice operates much like that of an editor: collecting, sorting, cutting, and reassembling fragments—images, documents, and visual traces—into new narratives. These materials often carry their own histories, and I allow them to take center stage within the work.
In my studio, conceived as an experimental laboratory, I engage with found objects, archival materials, and organic elements such as insect remains, transforming them beyond their original function. I work across a wide range of media—including installations, sculptures, objects, and drawings—to investigate themes of identity, memory, and displacement, as well as the dynamics of power and the ways ideology shapes contemporary life.
I am drawn to contrasts and tensions: the real and the imagined, the grotesque and the sublime, the visible and the concealed. Exploration and hands on craft are fundamental to my process, and I value the discipline and patience that making requires. My aim is to engage both intellectual reflection and sensory awareness, inviting viewers to reconsider established frameworks and encounter reality from new perspectives.
Networking and finding a mentor can have such a positive impact on one’s life and career. Any advice?
For me, the key has always been to focus on developing a strong and consistent practice. Building a solid body of work makes everything else easier and often attracts the right people organically. It’s also important to stay informed about grants, residencies, and awards, and to apply regularly. Even if you are not accepted at first, continued effort is essential. These opportunities not only provide financial support but also help expand visibility and recognition.
Meaningful professional relationships, including mentorships, tend to grow naturally. Attending exhibitions, staying engaged with the local art scene, and allowing connections to develop gradually—often through friends, colleagues, or shared projects—has proven far more effective than actively seeking exposure. While digital platforms can be useful, nothing replaces genuine, in person exchange and a well-developed portfolio.
Image Credits
Oriol Tarridas
